


Happy and Simple

by BlueSapphire718



Series: from the stars above (the cosmos are alight) [7]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Nautolan Culture, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSapphire718/pseuds/BlueSapphire718
Summary: Din slowly blinks at the bowl of suspiciouslygreensoup placed on the table before him, then slowly directs his gaze towards the culprit.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Kit Fisto/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: from the stars above (the cosmos are alight) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553083
Comments: 5
Kudos: 167





	Happy and Simple

Din slowly blinks at the bowl of suspiciously _green_ soup placed on the table before him, then slowly directs his gaze towards the culprit.

In front of him, Kit innocently smiles and bounces the Child on one of his knees, but there’s mischief curling at the edge of his lips. Kit looks _smug_ , like he’s been anticipating this for weeks and Din can do is press his lips together and say nothing. Clearly, this is an attempt to let his guard down; what for, he doesn’t know, but he meets unblinking dark eyes and narrows his own.

The smile on Kit’s lips widens.

“What’s the occasion?” Din asks carefully, doesn’t move when the Child babbles happily and the spoon in the soup lifts into the air.

A squeal, then more noises of contentment, as the spoon slowly heads towards the Child with a spoonful of said soup. The Child eagerly plops the contents of the spoon into his mouth, and gurgles. Din reaches out to grab the spoon before it drops onto the table, and places it back in the bowl. Watches as the Child swallows, glee shining in dark round eyes from the taste.

It’s nice to know that someone’s enjoying himself.

Kit lifts a hand, splaying it over his chest as if he’s hurt, and smiles deviously. Din doesn’t blink an eye, doesn’t move when Kit leans forward across the table, holding the Child carefully. That smile should be _illegal_. “Whatever do you mean by _that_ , Din? Can’t someone just give his partner something to drink out of love?”

He pointedly ignores the way Kit laces their fingers together on the table. Dark eyes soften, and Din closes his eyes. Breathes, and prays to whatever entity is out there to spare his pride.

“You normally wouldn’t cook out of nowhere,” Din points out dryly, reopens his eyes and the Child is beaming at him. “Usually you eat raw fish.”

“I do occasionally cook,” Kit protests, the bright smile still upon his lips, like nothing is deterring him. “And raw fish is absolutely delicious. You should try it sometime.”

From the amount of times he’s seen the Nautolan cut up raw fishes, then plopping them into his mouth like it’s nothing, with blood and organs and guts and all, Din isn’t inclined to think so. From those displays alone, Din doesn’t exactly want to eat fish these days, either. Instead, he levels a look at Kit, before dropping his gaze towards his foundling trying to get a spoonful of soup again.

He’ll drink it. Better to not waste any food. He’ll give some to the Child, since clearly his foundling likes it, seeing how he’s clambering for the bowl.

“No,” he says, simple as that, and Kit laughs, the sound bright and cheerful in their quarters. Something warm spins in his chest from it, and he _nearly_ smiles. Nearly. “What’s the soup?”

“Shehlilai,” Kit answers casually, leans back on his chair and continues to bounce the Child. Din only tilts his head in acknowledgement, lifts the spoon to drink the soup. It’s surprisingly cold, a little sour with a sweet aftertaste, the strange flavour dancing on his tongue, and then–

“It is the Nautolans’ traditional dessert, usually reserved for friends, family, and loved ones.”

He chokes.

Something loudly clatters onto the floor, and Kit’s hand tightens on his own. Din coughs violently, wheezes as he lifts his head and sees the Child hanging onto Kit’s hip for dear life. Kit, on the other hand, is holding onto the Child, and right next to him, worry etching upon his face. A traditional dessert, Din thinks faintly as he stares at the Nautolan.

Kit _made_ this dessert with _him_ in mind, and his heart squeezes, feels his cheeks _burning_ . It’s bad enough that Din’s still navigating whatever he has with Kit, but this– this is a bold leap. Like when Kit reached out to help him back then, even without knowing who he is. Like _that_. Kit has already let go of his fingers, reaching out to wrap his arm around his waist. Hauls him up from his chair and being this close to the Nautolan is _not_ helping him.

It’s not, and he grits his teeth, holds onto Kit’s shoulder with one hand. Reaches out to touch his foundling, and the Child coos at him, smiling with a wide grin. Din watches as the Child blinks wide black eyes at him, sighs in relief as Kit tightens his grip on him before he lets go. There’s a sheepish smile tugging on Kit’s lips now, and Din only picks the Child up instead of saying something.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says curtly, and pretends his cheeks aren’t burning like fire.

“Would you like to finish the dessert?” Kit asks, seemingly avoiding the obvious question hanging in the air. 

“We can share,” Din says, because apparently he has no control over his mouth around Kit, and this time, Kit stares at him with wide eyes. Shifts uncomfortably as Kit continues to stare. Is there something wrong with sharing? Or something that he doesn’t understand? Cultural difference? The Child impatiently moves in his arms, before he prattles with some new noises. 

Kit lets out a chuckle, one of relief, it seems. “We– we can share,” Kit says and his lips twist into a gentle smile. It’s genuine, and pretty. But there’s something else there, that he isn’t sure what it is.

He narrows his eyes. “Something wrong with sharing?”

At this, Kit shakes his head. “No, that is not it. There is nothing with sharing, but it’s more...” Kit inclines his head and his gaze pins him down, dark eyes softening once more, and it takes his breath away. “This dessert is often a sign of trust, and as I explained before, it is made for friends, family, and loved ones. If the one you made it for asks to share it with you, it’s... it shows that they love.”

“A cultural thing for you Nautolans,” Din guesses.

“Correct.”

Silence befalls upon them, and all Din can think about again is how Kit made this dessert with _him_ in mind. It’s... touching, beautiful, and Din feels his heart skipping a beat as he blinks at the Nautolan. This is the Jedi who saved his foundling’s life, had stuck by him since then, and helped Din adjust to this place.

Not too many words are needed to express how he feels.

“I thought we were already...” DIn waves a hand at their surroundings, at them, the Child gazing at them with a delighted expression. “This.”

“I thought I’d show it to you even more,” Kit says, and– oh.

He’s never thought his cheeks can catch fire like this, but _apparently it can_. Swallows and licks chapped lips, and closes his eyes. “ _Kriff_ ,” Din rasps. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Technically I am allowed to.” Kit grins, then slyly adds, “ _Cyar’ika_.”

“Don’t push your luck, Fisto,” Din immediately warns.

“I wouldn’t dare to do so, especially not to you,” Kit says smoothly.

Din snorts, because that’s most definitely a lie, but he drops it, sits back down in his chair with the Child in his lap. He picks up the spoon, takes a sip of the soup– dessert, and lets the Child take a sip afterwards. The Child squeals in delight, most likely from the taste, and he feels himself relax. Eyes Kit as the Nautolan takes the bowl and drinks some of it, and–

It’s nice.

It’s nice to be sitting down with the foundling he cares for, and someone who he trusts enough to not stab his back. Peaceful, with no one chasing after the Child, and it’s _safe_. It’s safe for his foundling to grow up and Din doesn’t have to worry about moving from planet to planet in order to prevent his foundling from being found. 

He exchanges a look with Kit, and Kit’s lips twitch into a wide and gentle smile, moving the bowl towards him. 

“ _Buir_!” the Child interrupts excitedly.

They both stop, before Kit laughs, the sound ringing bright and clear through the air, and Din freezes, his heart pounding in his chest. 

And–

Din smiles.


End file.
